


Fate, Chance, Kings, and Desperate Men

by gaslightgallows (hearts_blood)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Gods, Internal Monologue, Oaths & Vows, One Shot, POV Loki (Marvel), Stream of Consciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 20:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14576544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hearts_blood/pseuds/gaslightgallows
Summary: I am not a hero. I am not a villain. I amLoki.





	Fate, Chance, Kings, and Desperate Men

**Author's Note:**

> I got mad at the Russos. Title take from John Donne's ["Death, Be Not Proud"](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44107/holy-sonnets-death-be-not-proud). Don’t judge me for my cliched use of literature, I am processing my grief. 
> 
> If you're over on Tumblr, please consider following me at [gaslightgallows.tumblr.com](http://gaslightgallows.tumblr.com) for more fic, reblogs about writing, and other stuff I'm legally not allowed to talk about on AO3. Thank you for reading and especially for commenting. Comments are love. ♥

“No resurrections this time.”

Oh… that’s what you think. 

You step over my corpse and think to bring order to the universe with your little glove and your pretty colored stones. You condemn what remains of my people and my family to death, and delude yourself all the while that the universe cries out for order, for you to impose your will and bring all life into line with your whims.

You have no idea of the truth. For all your power and centuries of searching and striving, you’re still so… small.

Our universe was born from chaos, and ever since it has been hurtling back towards chaos, and there is no force or power to be found that can prevent that inevitability. 

And I? I, Loki, Odinson, son of Frigga, brother of Thor, prince of Asgard and king of Jotunheim… I _am_ chaos. 

I am whimsy, I am the whims of the fates, I am the random fall of the dice. I am what you will never be. 

I am a god.

God of Chaos, God of Mischief, god of beginnings and endings and rebirths. God of indecision, of outcasts, of unearned forgiveness and unearned love.

I am that which you will never be. I am a belief. When you were ancient and I was in my cradle, the mortals of Midgard told stories of what I would become, who I would be, what I would do. 

I am an idea. I am a belief. 

You will never be a god because you are too real for stories. You, Thanos, Destroyer of Worlds, can be _killed_. 

But I am Loki, and death is nothing new to me. 

Not even Death herself wants anything to do with you. I should know. I’ve been in her company enough times. She won’t hold that little matter of Ragnarok against me. Some family bonds are unbreakable, and she and I are the black sheep of the clan. We understand one another.

I am not a hero. I am not a villain. I am _Loki_. I am everything you do not know you fear, and everything you are unable to love. 

You think you have left me dead and broken on this dying ship, as my people lay dead and my broken brother weeps over me. I think you have made me desperate, and angry.

Revenge is nothing new to me, either. I was born to it, you see.

You should have tried harder to kill me. Better yet, you should have left me alone. 

But you have your little crusade, and your sycophants, and the billions who will kneel in terror before your sword. 

I? I have _family_. I have _lovers_. I have _believers_. 

I am a _god_ , and you? You… will not be remembered. 

And when you see me again, I will make you _pay_ for my brother’s tears.


End file.
